Trepidation
I like it best
When you stretch
The neck
Of my shirt
The drugs they don't work
They make it worse
You came to me
And you speak
Kindly
At the cemetery
The drugs they don't work
They make it worse
Dreams aren't dreams
When you can't leave
A ghost of a sweet thing
I'm not free
I'm empty
Grip my fist my ring's sinking in
Sing
Burn a little hole
In my soul
Burn a little hole
In my soul